


Starlight

by Abby_Ebon



Series: It's Not A Rabbit Hat [27]
Category: Final Fantasy XII, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Viera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting between two virera males by starlight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Shade of Euphoria: (What if) Harry OR DRACO! Was a viera?

There is nothing faster then light, science claims. A different knowledge, that of magic, knows otherwise.

So Harry Potter sits and waits, it is dark and the stars are all alight, and though there is a black robe over him, it does not hide him. His ears are long and sound sensitive, his feet give him away, covered by high heeled boots. He does not fear that he'll be approached before he can hide away, for his ears both give him away and give warning keenly. If they ever fail – and never had they yet – he would smell the being that watched him.

He is not human, not merely wizard, he is viera. He is also male, and among the viera that makes him something like the Feol Viera, outcaste, exile. He searches for a world among the stars that viera men may claim, he is a scout here – but not alone.

Above a planet much like Mars shines, suddenly, and Harry cups his palms together, for this had been what he waits for. Light fills it; life fills it, a life that Harry Potter left behind.

"Hirri." It's his name, his real name, and Harry Potter – Hirri, bows his head to the greeter. He is silver haired and storm grey eyed, where Hirri has hair black as this night, and eyes as green as any living thing.

"Dray." On another world, their world, Dray sits under a night sky like this, cups his palms, and breathes the air of Ivalice.

Together they whisper the night away, and come dawn, Hirri becomes Harry, ears tucking into the wild black hair he is known for. Like a living thing, his hair is, never will they know what lurks in it. It is bitter sweet, to meet and love by starlight, and part with the sunlight: but it is a way of living that Harry does not grudge.

There will be another night, he has merely to wait.


End file.
